


Summers in the Orchard

by excentricAnthropologist



Category: Goblin Market - Christina Rossetti
Genre: F/F, Not Incest, Period-Typical Homophobia, Queer Interpretation, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 05:09:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10892358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/excentricAnthropologist/pseuds/excentricAnthropologist
Summary: As Fate would have it, they meet amongst fruit.





	Summers in the Orchard

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this two years ago for the creative portion of the final for my Children's Literature class. This femslash fan fiction helped get me a college degree. What a time to be alive.
> 
> There is period-typical homophobia referenced in this but no specific examples are mentioned or described.

As Fate would have it, they meet amongst fruit.

Lizzie is in the early spring of her life, a few years before she begins to blossom into a woman. Her family is on holiday in the countryside, and, having grown bored with the long-winded conversations of grown ups, she has decided to explore the trees that grow beyond the borders of her family’s summer home. She leaves her shoes behind and runs barefoot through the woods, the damp earth cool on the soles of her feet. Her hair is down and it flies behind her like a golden flare; she laughs with the sheer freedom of it all.

Eventually she reaches a break in the trees, and peers out cautiously.

She’s standing on the fringes of another estate; the house is tall and painted a shade of lavender so pale it might as well be white.

Along the edge of the lawn, right in front of where Lizzie is standing, sits a cluster of fruit trees. Their fruit is summer-ripe, the air heady with the scent of peaches and plums, and Lizzie’s mouth waters as the aroma reaches her nose.

It is then that Lizzie notices a small figure standing amongst the trees. It’s a girl, no older than she is, with hair only a shade or two darker than her own. The girl is eating a plum and humming some made-up tune to herself. She too is barefoot, her sun-browned toes dragging lazily through the grass.

She notices Lizzie, and gives her a juice-stained smile. Lizzie returns it with a grin of her own.

The two exchange names and pleasantries, and they spend a good while talking about this and that, weaving crowns out of the small daisies that grow around them and braiding them into each other’s hair.

The sun grows high and hot, and soon Lizzie finds her mouth dry. She licks her cracked lips, and the other girl (Laura, Lizzie has learned), reaches up to pluck a low-hanging peach.

She holds it out to Lizzie.

“Here”, Laura says with a smile, her voice honey-sweet. “Try one.”

Lizzie reaches out, and her fingers slowly brush against Laura’s as she takes the fruit and brings it to her lips. Juice runs down Lizzie’s chin, collecting in the hollow of her throat, and she meets Laura’s eyes and smiles.

***

They meet again next summer, and the summer after that, and again after that, until the two find that it is painful to be apart. They live rather far away from each other, and while they write letters to each other over the colder months, it isn’t enough. They find that they only feel complete in the embrace of the other, sunlight on their skin and the scent of fruit in the air.

One summer evening, amidst the fruit trees and balmy air, Laura presses her lips to Lizzie’s, and it’s sweeter than any peach. Lizzie grins into the kiss and threads her hands into Laura’s hair, savoring the feel of the silken tresses between her fingers.

***

The world does not take kindly to women who love each other, and Laura and Lizzie whisper their fears to each other under the light of the midsummer moon. Eventually, after much planning, they decide to run away.

Packing jewelry and what money they can find into their skirts, they catch a train to a remote town, far away from both their families. The plan is simple: pretend to be sisters (they look similar enough), work odd jobs to pay the rent, support each other as best they can in order to live together in peace.

As Lizzie watches the countryside race by, Laura’s head on her shoulder and their fingers intertwined, she feels more at peace than she has her whole life, and says a quick prayer thanking God for all he has given her.

***

But the Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away.

The world isn’t kind to unmarried women. Try as they might, it isn’t easy to find jobs, and soon they find themselves scrounging for money to buy bread. The winters seem colder with empty stomachs, but they find warmth in each other’s arms.

It’s the goblins that prove to be their downfall, for while Laura is in her stupor it is Lizzie’s meager salary alone that supports them. She works twice as hard as before, but her purse becomes lighter and lighter as her love becomes weaker and weaker.

After Lizzie finally manages to wake Laura from her trance, their money has run dry, and with a heavy heart Lizzie tells Laura that they can’t keep their charade up any longer.

Laura cries, tears running down her face, and Lizzie kisses them away. Our love will remain, Lizzie tells Laura as she strokes her hair. We’ll always have our summers.

***

The two of them each find lovely men to marry. They have children, and later grandchildren, and they live the lives of proper English women. They see each other often, and the townspeople remark that there are no two sisters closer than Laura and Lizzie.

Their summers in the orchard are long since past, replaced by the dreary grey days of a world that would destroy them if it knew what they really were, so they plaster on grins and bear children and think back on days of warm wind and peach juice.


End file.
